Please Understand

Chapter 39: Hero

An insane amount of adrenaline coursed through my veins as I pressed harder on the gas pedal. My poor football career was suffering at the hands of Amelia, but I knew this was something I had to do. Football practice could wait until I get there. I needed closure more than she did, so I suppose this isn't even about her. She doesn't need me to save her, she never did, but here I am trying once again.

I haphazardly parked, earning a few glares from parents as they waited for their children. Part of me wanted to feel guilty, but I knew what I was about to do next would hopefully ensure the safety of all these kids. I wasn't the danger here. As I walked by, I noticed a girl with blue eyes and messy brown hair, and immediately she reminded me of Amelia. Just by seeing her, I knew this was the right decision. I needed to protect these children because I didn't protect her.

When I rounded the corner, nobody asked what I was doing. The secretary, Mrs. Gibson, was talking to a few students, so she didn't even pay attention to the dude roaming the halls. She's a sweet woman, and she's been here for as long as I can remember. All of us loved her, and it's apparent the kids still do, so why isn't she protecting them? I know I'm not a real threat, but I could have walked right passed her with a gun, and she wouldn't have noticed.

I could have rounded this next corner, and killed a man. The only thing to notice me would be the cameras, and I would surely be prosecuted because Detective Nix has it out for me. No one would see it the way I do. Murdering one monster should be celebrated, but unfortunately, murder in the first degree is still a crime. I also don't think I could ever pull the trigger, no matter how angry with him I may be.

When I finally got to the gym, I saw him moving little laminated shoes on the wall. He was updating the miles each kid walked during recess for Walking Club. Everyone thought his idea was a great way to get kids to exercise, when in reality, he just wanted to take the lucky few with the most miles to the YMCA for some alone time. My blood boiled at the horrific thoughts, and some unknown force propelled me forward.

He turned and smiled at me with his discolored, purple lips. His skin was tan and wrinkled the way it always was. The grey hairs on his head were the only dead giveaways that he even aged. "Mason Maxwell! What's the star quarterback doing here?" he greeted, beaming at me. "Are you boys going to be coming back to help teach some more football skills? I know the kids really enjoyed having you here."

The way he said kids set me off. The friendly smile I forced myself to wear faded, and my hands balled into fists at my sides. He didn't even notice my anger because he was too busy proudly smiling, and he didn't see my fist coming until it connected with his jaw line. I felt a pop, but I wasn't sure if it was my knuckles or his jaw. Adrenaline kept me from feeling anything, but he clutched his mouth, staring at me with his wide, sunken eyes.

Finally, my mouth moved, and the words tumbled out without a second thought. "I know what you did to Amelia," I growled in a demonic voice I didn't know I could possess. "You are going to resign, or I'm going to make sure the entire town knows you like little girls." The words tasted like vomit in my mouth, and I had to force them out, hoping the burning would stop.

He took a step away from me, and looked down the hall to make sure no one was listening. "I wouldn't hurt one of my students," he insisted, shaking his head. "Besides, the statute of limitations is up. They can't put me in jail."

I clenched my jaw and narrowed my eyes, anything to make him fear me the way Amelia feared him everyday of her young life. "That doesn't mean you didn't molest another child," I began and this time I really wanted to puke. I didn't realize how hard it would be to say these things to him. I thought I could scare him enough to quit, but he actually thought through this scenario. He knew exactly what to say as if he expected this day to come and rehearsed. "If it happened once, then wouldn't it be likely that you had another relapse? I'm pretty close to Detective Nix and I'm sure he would be willing to start a full fledged investigation. Do you really want everyone knowing about what you did?" I took a deep breath, so I wouldn't lose my cool. "I'm giving you an option here. Either I'm going to the police, or you can pack up your shit and quietly leave. Move far away and I better not see you in this town again, understood?"

He knitted his eyebrows together, and moved his hand from his jaw. "If I leave, then you won't tell anyone?" he questioned like he didn't believe me. This was all too good to be true!

I dug my nails into the palm on my hand to control myself from beating him to a bloody pulp. Then, the police would definitely be involved, and they would believe a grown man over the delusional boy who lied about a missing girl.  "Yes, but you also have to quit teaching," I insisted with a gulp. I should have just turned him in. What am I even doing? "You have to leave right now!" My voice echoed off the walls, and I trembled as the fire inside me grew.

He blinked at me, almost like he didn't believe the words he heard. The gears were spinning in his head. What could he possibly be thinking about? Nope, I don't want to know. "Okay, I'll leave," he grumbled with a shrug, acting like this was no big deal.

"If I find out you're lying, then I won't hesitate to go to the detectives about his," I threatened, even though I was completely bluffing. No one would believe me, and he's right, the statute of limitations is up, but that doesn't mean I can't ruin his life.

"Let me finish-"

"Get out!" I shouted, feeling my face heat up with frustrations. "Get out of here! You ruined everything!" I scoffed and covered my face with my hands. Then, I snatched the laminate shoes and the clipboard from his hands. "Go!"

He seemed slightly shocked, but he shuffled passed me and into his office. I stood there, and listened as he threw things around, grumbling to himself, but I waited until he came back out with his duffle bag. Mr. Morris didn't even look at me as he trudged down the hall with his head held high, even though he should be ashamed of everything he did. He should be rotting behind bars, not walking freely.

How could I let him go? What if he goes to another school? What if this happens again?

I looked down at his clipboard with the names of his students, and the number of miles they've walked. Slowly, I put Ryan under the fifty mile mark with shaking hands, and tears gathering in my eyes. The pressure of the situation was too much for me to handle. Even though I got him out of this town, got him away from these kids, that doesn't make me a hero. There are other kids out there that I'm not protecting by letting him go. Being a bystander, allowing a monster to continue destroying lives, makes me just as evil.

However, what if he changed? He could possibly be getting help, and maybe he wasn't lying when he said he wouldn't hurt his students. Perhaps Amelia was the only one, the only lapse in his judgement, and perhaps he regrets what he did. Maybe he never did it again. I really don't know the whole situation.

Even though I wanted to believe that he wouldn't hurt anyone else, I couldn't bring myself to. When I taped up Shay's red shoe between fifty and sixty, I couldn't shake the horrible feeling that I made a grave mistake. I shouldn't have let him walk, but I had absolutely no proof. Amelia couldn't have built a case, but one of these other kids could have. Shay could've been molested, but would she have wanted to go through the trauma of a trial?

Amelia never stepped forward, so how many other kids couldn't speak up? Were they afraid no one would believe them? Personally, I would've been more afraid of the trial, and having to relive the horror in front of judging people. The weight of the verdict would rest solely on that child. If the jury didn't believe them, then reliving that mess wouldn't have been worth it. He still could've walked, and that child would've blamed themselves for letting him go.

But not stepping forward still bears another weight that I've witnessed Amelia carry. She wasn't able to try. What if the trial worked in her favor? What if the jury believed her, and pronounced him guilty? What if stepping forward would've been worth it? She could've prevented any other child from being hurt by this man, but she didn't.

She shouldn't feel guilty because she was scared, young, and didn't know what to do. What child knows exactly what to do? She just lost her mother, and no one would've believed her! They would've told her she was doing this for attention. They would've dismissed her, and sided with him because nothing bad ever happens in a small town. How was she supposed to know what to do?

Here I was, eight years later, and after careful consideration, I still made the wrong decision. I've thought long and hard about what I would do if I even came face to face with Mr. Morris, and I gave him an out. I didn't step forward.

 Why couldn't I be the hero this one time?